


Ten For A Memory

by HeartOfAspen



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-08-09 00:02:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16439351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeartOfAspen/pseuds/HeartOfAspen
Summary: One for sorrow - two for mirth - three for a wedding - four for a birth - five for silver - six for gold - seven for a secret never to be told - eight for a wish - nine for a kiss - and ten for a memory you must not miss...





	Ten For A Memory

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Filisgare](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Filisgare/gifts).



> This one-shot was written in honor of the marriage of my dear beta, Filisgare. Congratulations... may you always bask in that little slice of heaven.

_ One for sorrow… _

A single magpie landed on a pile of rubble that was all that remained of a castle spire. Draco’s eyes followed it as it flapped its wings and settled; the bird stared back at him, almost saucily, constantly tilting its head as if sizing him up. It appeared to decide that he was no danger to it because it soon turned its attention elsewhere.

The battle had been won, but the castle was in ruins. As he gazed around, Draco was unsure how so much sorrow could ever be rectified…

A movement off to his right sent the magpie flying away with indignant fanfare; Draco’s head turned. It was Granger.

She seemed just as surprised to see him, as he was to be suddenly thrown into her presence. For a moment, she only considered him - much like the magpie had - before murmuring, “Glad you’re alright, Malfoy.”

She was gone again before he could muster a response. Nonetheless, he whispered after her retreating form, “You too, Granger…”

~

_ Two for mirth… _

It was summer, and the chestnut tree outside Ginny’s bedroom window at the Burrow was in full bloom, boasting great, white tufts of flowers that promised to soon blossom into nuts for gathering and roasting at Christmastime. Hermione stared out the window, at two magpies which had landed on the roof of the old, stone outhouse the Weasleys had converted into a Quidditch shed. Meanwhile, Ginny, Harry, and Ron were combing through copies of the _Daily Prophet_ and _The Quibbler_ ; it was best to peruse both these days, in order to get a semblance of truth.

“It looks like the Malfoys bribed the Ministry to push their trials forward,” Ginny observed from the inner pages of the _Prophet_. “Though the consequences appear to have been both good and bad - Narcissa essentially got off scot-free since you spoke for her, Harry... but Lucius has been sentenced to life. Probably the Wizengamot were feeling bloodthirsty.”

Ginny brandished the paper, and Hermione tore her eyes from the window to look at the picture splashed there, her gaze rooted to the image of the third Malfoy’s face. He appeared collected, calm. She voiced, “What do you think will happen to Draco?”

Even as she said it, she wondered why it mattered to her what happened to him.

But Ginny only shrugged, “Who knows?”

“Ha!” Ron exclaimed. _The Quibbler_ was spread out in front of him. “What side of the centaur has more hair?”

Harry groaned, “Is this another one of Xenophilius’s jokes?”

“Which side?” Hermione asked, willing to humor him.

“The outside,” Ron cackled.

Ginny giggled. Harry snorted. It was infectious - and soon, they all were laughing at the terrible joke…

~

_ Three for a wedding… _

Of course, Granger was there. Draco had been counting on it. Besides, it was Potter’s wedding - where else would she be?

If someone had asked Draco where he expected to be at the age of 21, he would not have answered, “At Harry Potter’s wedding to the Weaslette, accompanying my mother.” And he definitely would not have admitted to being there because he was eager to catch a glimpse of Granger, of all witches. He had not seen her in years, except in the papers…

He and Narcissa were being given a wide berth by the other guests, he noticed, but it did not bother him. Not when Granger herself was crossing the tent toward him.

“Would you care to dance?” she asked, looking as if she were trying very hard not to second-guess herself.

He quirked an eyebrow at her; she was lovely in a navy dress. “I’d love to.”

They did not talk about much. She was working on house elf liberation at the Ministry, which Draco already knew, to which he lent a sympathetic ear. She seemed surprised, so he counted it as a success.

It was only one dance, and his mother pressed him to leave soon afterward. But as the two of them filtered out of the tent to depart, past the Flutterby bush where three magpies were perched, and beyond the crumbling stone wall to the Apparition point, Draco had thoughts only for bronze skin and chocolate eyes…

~

_ Four for a birth… _

Hermione showed up for Teddy Lupin’s fourth birthday party at Andromeda’s house, gift in hand, and new boyfriend on her arm. She strode confidently up the front walk, past the long, wooden fencepost, and pulling Anthony along behind her. Four magpies, which had been casually loitering along the fence, cawed at her and scattered into the sky; perhaps she was being over-hasty.

Her confidence was thrown, however, when she observed the presence of both Narcissa and Draco. She stopped in her tracks, and stared at the back of a certain blond head; she knew Andromeda had recently reconciled with her sister, but she had not expected the Malfoys to be present at this anniversary of Teddy’s birth. Nevertheless, she quickly collected herself, introduced Anthony around to all those present, and happily accepted a slice of cake when the time came.

She tried to ignore the feeling of grey eyes on her throughout the afternoon.

Later, when they had all assembled outside to watch Teddy unwrap his present - a broomstick - from Harry and Ginny, Hermione heard, “It’s nice to see you, Granger.”

She smiled back at Draco and tried to ignore the pat-pattering of her heart. “You as well, Malfoy.”

“Surprised you brought Goldstein, however.”

Her pulse skipped faster. “We met at work - nearly there on the house elf liberation plan, you know. Anthony has been helping me. All we need is a donor to push it through.”

“I see.”

A pause. “Why should you be surprised?”

He shrugged. “He just seems too boring for you...”

~

_ Five for silver… _

Lucius would have murdered him if he could see what Draco was doing right now, of that he was absolutely certain. Still, if all Hermione Granger needed to achieve her desires was some silver, well… Draco had money in abundance, that was for damn sure.

Had it really only been a week since he had last seen her?

As he sent the letter with the cheque off into the Ministry, he paused at the window. The Manor’s grounds were beautiful in May. Outside, he could see his mother gardening; it seemed to give her solace, and allow her to collect herself. Nearby, the peacocks were strutting about, and five black magpies were sitting on a hedge, watching Narcissa prune her rosebushes…

~

_ Six for gold… _

The Ministry Ball, which was held every autumn, was this year to be held at Kingsley Shacklebolt’s estate in Derbyshire. Hermione’s house elf law had been passed a few scant months ago, freeing them all - but ambitious as ever, she already had a new project on the horizon. Kingsley had invited her to give a short speech about werewolf rights, as many donors would be in attendance at the annual gala.

She had no date on her arm this year. Truth be told, there  _ was _ someone, in particular, Hermione was hoping to see…

...And there he was. But Draco Malfoy’s arm was occupied already, by a beautiful woman she did not recognize.

She tried to seclude herself to catch her breath. There was no point in jealousy. Draco did not owe her anything. It had been a flight of fancy, a little nothing. _Le petit rien_ …

Looking out from the balcony and away from the light of the party, she squinted into the distance. Six magpies were sitting on one of the stone balustrades nearby, so still it was almost as if they were made of stone themselves.

“It wouldn’t be a party if I didn’t get to speak with you for at least a few moments.”

Hermione turned. Had Draco followed her there?

He was alone - and he was approaching her. Why was he standing so close?

For a moment, it seemed as if he might kiss her. The two of them were trapped under a kind of trance, looking into one another’s eyes - brown and grey - as if nothing else in the world mattered. The spell was broken by the sound of applause from within.

She swallowed heavily. “I should go - my speech…”

“Right. Yes, you should.”

She rushed inside, fixing her hair and trying not to look as if Draco Malfoy had nearly seduced her. Her speech was given passionately, and afterwards, Kingsley introduced her to many influential people, a good number of whom made donations toward her werewolf project.

When it finally became an appropriate time to plead fatigue and return home, Hermione gratefully broke away to find the Floo. That was when she overheard it.

“How much has been donated to that werewolf project of Granger’s?” She stopped in her tracks: that was Draco’s voice.

Kingsley’s deep baritone responded with a sum, the total of which had far exceeded all of Hermione’s expectations.

“I’d like to match it.” He paused. “Anonymously.”

Stunned, it was a moment before she could collect herself. When she did finally leave, her heart was still racing...

~

_ Seven for a secret never to be told… _

Draco Malfoy was head-over-heels for Hermione Granger, and there was absolutely no one he could talk to about it.

He had tried walking through the Manor grounds, past the rows of trees in the orchard, through the numerous trellises climbing all over with morning glories, and along the parapet walk, sending all seven of the magpies gathered there, into the skies as he went.

A secret it would have to remain. Draco did not think he had what it took to tell Hermione just how much he craved the very sight of her or the sound of her voice. It was an exquisite torture, but it was better than nothing…

~

_ Eight for a wish... _

James Sirius Potter was born on a sunny afternoon, into the ecstatic arms of his father and the joyful bliss of his mother. Shortly thereafter, Hermione showed up at the hospital, ready to offer her congratulations.

As she held the baby, cooing to him in her arms, Draco appeared to offer his congratulations. It was surely a twist of fate that he and Harry had become fast friends over the past few years.

“Would you like to hold him, Malfoy?” Harry asked proudly.

Though he rolled his eyes as if it were a travesty even to be asked, Draco answered, “Why not?”

It was then, watching him hold the babe as if he had been tasked with carrying a precarious bundle of priceless crystal, that Hermione knew she was in far too deep with Draco Malfoy. This was more than a schoolgirl crush - she could not take her eyes off of him.

He must have noticed, because he approached her afterward. She thought he seemed nervous. “Would you be interested in lunch tomorrow, Granger - to discuss your project, I mean. Of course.”

“That would be lovely,” she acquiesced with a smile.

It wasn’t a date; he had specified it was for work. But as she headed down the London streets back to the Ministry offices, she was so distracted she nearly pummelled into a newspaper stand. As it was, she knocked over a small display and caused several birds that had been combing the streets for a meal, to cause a ruckus. Several pigeons and eight magpies flew away, highly offended by her lack of care.

But Hermione did not mind. Her heart was leaping…

~

_ Nine for a kiss… _

Following lunch, during which they had discussed her werewolf project very little, Hermione and Draco found themselves at a little bookstore she had insisted on stopping into. He had indulged her; he supposed he should have known.

Still, he thought it had all gone swimmingly thus far. In her eyes, he could see that she was aware that this was more than a lunch meeting for work - and that was comforting somehow.

Until she blurted, “Thank you for donating to my werewolf project. I had no idea you were such a philanthropist.”

Was that it, then? Had she only agreed to come to lunch with him so she could thank him properly? With dismay, he looked at her, then past her through the bookshop window. A couple across the street was canoodling at one of the tables outside the little cafe there. Meanwhile, the apothecary next-door was bustling with activity; nine magpies were hopping around on the cobblestone street outside it, causing minor mischief with the display of unicorn tail hair.

He looked back at her. Those warm, brown eyes were looking at him - shining with admiration…

No. It was now, or never.

“Surely you know why.”

She looked up at him, and he saw his invitation - and without any further fanfare, he was kissing her, and it was everything he had dreamed it would be. Hermione felt like finally coming home after a long and weary day.

When they parted, he murmured, “You can think on that, Granger.”

She opened her mouth to speak, but he stopped her.

“No,  _ actually _ think on it. I am not an easy person to be involved with in any capacity. I am not a man who makes speeches or constant declarations of emotion - and despite my efforts, my reputation is not spotless.”

For a moment, he only observed him until, slowly, she brought her hand to her lips. As if she could not fathom what had happened. When her hand dropped, she promised, “I will think on it, Draco…”

~

_ One for sorrow, _

_ Two for mirth, _

_ Three for a wedding, _

_ Four for a birth, _

_ Five for silver, _

_ Six for gold, _

_ Seven for a secret never to be told, _

_ Eight for a wish, _

_ Nine for a kiss, _

_ And ten for a memory you must not miss… _

There was something beautiful about the contrasting black, blue-almost-turquoise, and white of a magpie’s feathers, Hermione thought as she watched a cluster of the birds arrange themselves on a nearby tree limb.

“Are you warm enough?”

She turned to Draco, who was offering her a blanket against the cool air coming up off the water.  “I will be if you join me.”

Obligingly, he settled himself beside her on the little bench on their rented porch and spread the blanket over them. She snuggled into his side, resting her head on his shoulder. They sat like that a moment in perfect silence, looking out across the idyllic view spread before them.

“Great thought,” he remarked, “for you to think of Orcas Island. I’ve never been to the Americas.”

“Mum and Dad took me here when I was younger. It’s not much changed.”

A beat. “What do you think they’ll all say back home when we tell them we’ve eloped?”

A smile spread slowly across her lips. “I expect they’ll be happy for us. After all, we’ve been working up to this for three years now… and it isn’t every day you find your own perfect slice of heaven.”

_ Fin. _

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to AlexandraO for beta-ing this piece for me, last minute.


End file.
